the movement a doctrinal one, and forced it on with equal vigour.

Wales looked on, with indifference and apathy at first, and then with
murmurs. The movement had no attraction: it had many causes of
offence. In England the political movement became a patriotic, an
intellectual, and a religious movement; and it succeeded. In
Ireland, also, it was political, but it could not appeal to
patriotism, because it was an English movement; and it failed. In
Wales, it was neither welcomed nor opposed; it was simply tolerated,
and with a bad grace.

For one thing, it brought English instead of Latin into public
worship. Latin, the old language of prayer and even of sermon, was
venerated, though not understood. But English was not only not
understood, it was also regarded as inferior to Welsh. The Tudors'
dislike of various tongues was as strong as their dislike of various
jurisdictions. Henry VIII., in giving Welshmen the Act of 1535, says
that the tongue of Owen Tudor is "nothing like ne consonant to the
natural mother-tongue used within this realm," and enacts that all
officials in Wales shall speak English. And, in the same spirit, the
Welshman was told that the Kingdom of Heaven was now open to him, but
that he must seek it in English, or not at all.

Again, the reformers--men of the type of Bishop Barlow--despised and
shocked a people they never understood. The sanctity of St David's,
the theme of the best poets of the Middle Ages and the goal of
generations of pilgrims, was described by its Protestant bishop--who
unroofed the palace in order to get the lead--as a desolate angle
frequented only by vagabond pilgrims. A Welshman is not appealed to
by what is an insult to his country and a shock to his religion at